Let's go dip it low (then you bring it up slow)
by Andithiel
Summary: Draco was not prepared to run into Potter in a Muggle gym, especially not a provocatively dressed, dancing and flirtatious Potter. Or, the one where Harry is a dancer and Draco is not okay. EWE, Muggle gym, Thirsty Draco, Dancer Harry, Ogling, Flirting, Humor, Feels. Rated T for language and... thirst.


A/N: A million thanks to my alpha/beta **Nyuufish** for helping me whipping this into shape, for generally cheering me on and for sending this video my way in the first place. I love you so much babes!

Any remaining mistakes are mine.

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To any other person this would be just another Muggle gym (and a pretty dull one at that), but for Draco, this was a sanctuary. The treadmill whirred on drowsily, the sound mingling with the thump-thump-thump of his feet as they hit the band, picking up speed. After a week off work due to a cold it felt good coming here again, feeling the soreness of his muscles, pressing his body past its limits. True, it was more pleasant to run outdoors, where he could feel the air whipping at his face and breathe more freely, but warming charms and water repellent charms didn't work very well with movement. And Draco was moving fast. He loved the simplicity of it, the dullness and the monotony an excellent way to make his mind go blank and relieve the stress after a day at the Department of Mysteries.

He increased the speed of the mill, willing his shoulders to relax and concentrating on breathing in and out, as he always did whenever he felt like stopping. In-two-three, out- two-three-four-five-six. He stared fixedly at a spot on the opposite wall, imagining running past it, running away from all the reports he had to fill, away from all the whispers and sneers that always seemed to accompany him wherever he went, away from the stinging hexes that occasionally found their way to him. He knew he was pressing himself too much after a week of lying in bed, but it felt so good to be back. He could worry about overexertion tomorrow.

Someone cleared their throat, making him lose his focus. Draco glanced sideways and saw a man about his own age standing beside the machine, arms folded, looking pointedly between Draco, the sign that said "Treadmills only for 10 min warm up" and his wristwatch. Draco pretended he didn't see the man. Merlin, the gym was equipped with rowing machines and those weird bicycles that didn't have any chains, they were (apparently) useful too. Bloody hell, live and let exercise? He would be finished soon anyway.

The other man was now glaring daggers at him but Draco just flashed him a cheeky grin and kept on running. That was the beauty of going to a Muggle gym, no one to recognize him which meant no worrying about getting tripped while he was exercising or being cornered in the showers afterwards.

A searing pain in his side made Draco finally admit defeat and he slowed down until he was walking at a clipped pace. He blew some stray hair from his face and glanced at the other man, who was now actually tapping his foot in annoyance. Draco winked at him and grabbed his water bottle, which he secretly filled with water with an _aguamenti_. He kept his wand hidden, of course (the sweat bands muggles used combined with a disillusionment charm were a perfect place to stow it away), but he couldn't help to cut corners, even if it were only so he could get out of carrying the extra weight of water a few feet.

After a minute or so he decided he was finished, and he made a big show of wiping down the entire machine, before he left it with an exaggerated bow to the other man who scowled before he put in two little pieces of plastic in his ears. Draco had done some research and learned that they were called _headphones_ , and that they could be used for listening to music. He thought they sounded fascinating but had not yet been able to come by any to try them for himself.

He was on his way toward the mats to stretch when something familiar caught his eye, something that made him stop dead in his tracks. Draco stood rooted to the spot, mouth sagging slightly open at the vision before him: none other than Harry Potter, Saviour of the bloody wizarding world himself, dancing - _dancing!_ \- in front of the mirrored wall.

Truth be told, Potter didn't look remotely as Draco remembered him: dressed in a tank top, hot pants, and with a sweater tied around his waist (and so illegally _fit_ ), but there was no mistaking that messy black hair or those brilliantly green eyes.

Draco hadn't seen him since Potter - much to everyone's surprise and general public outrage - left the auror force a few years back. Draco was probably one of the few, aside from Granger and Weasley he supposed, that weren't that surprised by Potter's resignation from a promising career at the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. It was really astounding that people seemed to think that Potter owed everyone something, like become the youngest Head auror ever or some such tripe and be ever available for the public's demands.

As if he hadn't done enough by saving them all from a megalomaniac.

All the same, if Draco permitted himself to admit it, he kind of missed Potter at the Ministry. Even if Draco rarely surfaced from the Department of Mysteries, he had found some comfort in having Potter in the same building, especially since he risked bumping in to him once in a while.

With Potter gone from the Ministry, well, Draco had no choice other than to read the occasional article in the Prophet or Witch Weekly. Just to keep on top of the latest gossip or outrageous rumor, from a standpoint of purely professional interest, of course.

He had most certainly _not_ devoured them, especially not the gossip articles linking Potter romantically to various wizards and speculation about his love life. Draco had _most_ certainly _not_ read the inevitable coming out interview with the Chosen One so many times that he could recite parts of it by heart. And he had definitely _definitely_ not wished or hoped that the wizard Potter was referring to as his first clue that he was gay was in fact he himself.

Draco's thoughts ground to a screeching halt as the song on the speakers ended and a new began, the rhythm picked up and suddenly Potter _moved_. Draco had never seen anything quite like this before. Was it even possible to move your body like that? It was as if those hips had a life of their own as they were wiggling from side to side, arse shaking (though regretfully obscured by the sweater) and his pelvis gyrating in time with the music. Fuck, Potter looked absolutely delicious. Who knew that a body like that had been hidden under those voluminous robes all this time? Draco silently thanked every deity he knew of for the change in wardrobe as his mouth dropped open a little further. He swallowed dryly and inhaled to find some of his equilibrium. It didn't really work, and he felt his eyes shamelessly travel the length of the moving body in front of him.

The armholes of the top were so low cut that they revealed Potter's muscled chest, covered in what looked like a tattoo of a phoenix. The shorts were riding higher up along his thighs as Potter moved his legs and did some sort of swivelly move as he arched his back, and Draco _swore_ that the way Potter's arse moved up and down was physically impossible.

A smatter of conversation alerted Draco to the fact that he wasn't the only one ogling Potter. Some women were sitting along the wall, unashamedly watching his every move, every shake of that ass, every thrust of those hips, how his cheeks bounced as he made a sliding jump, and over at the treadmills there was serious risk of injury. One girl even came up and tried to talk to him, but Potter just brushed her off, apparently enthralled with his own movements.

He kept _touching_ himself, sliding his hands down over his chest and always keeping his half-lidded eyes on his form in the mirror. Draco couldn't blame him, really. The sight was nothing short of erotic, as Draco could well confirm. All lean muscles and strong legs just begging to sink down over Dracos hard co- No. Wait. That was not a direction he wanted his mind to go in, at least not right here, right now.

Potter was now crouching down while simultaneously rolling his hips and Draco's mouth went dryer as he vividly imagined the very same movement playing out on top of him instead and - no. No. He really, really, shouldn't go there.

To his horror he felt his cock begin to stir and pulse steadily at the thought of Potter significantly more undressed. Not that it was the first time Draco had thought about him in that fashion, it had been known to happen occasionally (or often) since, oh, maybe fifth grade, but this? This was a sexual fantasy playing out right in front of his eyes, and not even in his wildest imagination would he have credited Potter with movements this smooth or enticing. Draco was thankful he had brought his towel and water bottle, so he could use them to hide his predicament, because his running tights were not helping him or his issues _at all_ right now.

"Gorgeous, isn't he?" someone beside him said and he tore his gaze away from the dancing miracle to see one of the women from the wall standing beside him and looking like she was undressing Potter with her eyes.

"He comes here every tuesday, dancing like he's all alone in here, not talking to anybody" she continued wistfully, frowning slightly. "We've all tried but it's like he barely even sees us. No one knows who he is or where he comes from. He's such a _mystery_ " she sighed.

Draco didn't know what to say, partly because, well, he couldn't exactly tell her who Potter was, could he? And partly because his brain seemed to be shutting down, no doubt because of the redirection of blood flow to his nether regions. He hummed in what was supposed to be a sign of agreement, which he thought was rather impressive considering that Potter was now crouching down again and _spreading his knees_. _Repeatedly_.

Draco wondered silently if this kind of dance was even allowed. Surely there must be children present that could witness this, this - decadence? Perhaps he ought to take it upon himself to talk to the management about this and see what guidelines they had for disorderly conduct?

Potter spun around then, his head facing away from the mirrors for the first time since he started dancing and he spotted Draco, who hastily tried to school his expression from gawking to something resembling casual interest. He could only wish there was no drool visible on his chin. Potter froze immediately and with a snap seemed to come out of his bubble.

"Malfoy! I haven't seen you in ages! What are you doing here, of all places?" He didn't sound annoyed, just startled, and he actually gave Draco a warm smile. He grabbed the hem of his top and used it to wipe his forehead, baring his chest for Draco to see that, yes, that was indeed a tattoo of a phoenix, stretching from his right armpit across his chest, wings spread wide, with the beak pointing to Potter's heart.

He did it very casually, as if he showed his chest to people all the time. As if he didn't care that Draco needed oxygen to his brain in order to survive. Because how in all seven hells was Draco supposed to breathe with this exhibition of Potter's smooth skin over taut muscles and, _oh Merlin_ , the sight of his nipples, golden brown and practically begging Draco to lick them?

Beside him, Draco could hear the woman who had talked to him make a sound of surprise (and arousal?) that was more like a squeak, but he ignored her and took a step closer to Potter. Potter's chest was heaving from the dancing and Draco tried hard to remember how he usually did when he was using his mouth to form words.

"I, er, I work out here?" he said flatly. Why had his brain decided to abandon him now that he finally had Potter in front of him, sweaty, panting, dishevelled and all to himself?

"Yes, well, I gathered that much" Potter said with a wry smile. "It's just..." he looked around as if to check nobody was listening. "I guess a Muggle gym would be the last place I expected to run into you" he continued with his voice lowered. "Not that I'm complaining!" he added with a quirk of his eyebrow.

"Oh! Well I'm... usually running outside, but now since the weather's getting colder I... use the... treadmills" Draco said with a vague hand gesture towards the general direction of the treadmills, as if that would explain things. He wished he could run outside right this instant and perhaps get some help from the crisp winter air to tamp down his blush (and preferably his erection while he was at it).

"Oh, right." said Potter, apparently satisfied with that answer. He raked a hand through his messy and sweat damp hair and looked Draco up and down, seemingly taking in his appearance. "Yeah, you look more like you have a runner's body" he continued with a crooked grin.

Draco inhaled sharply but tried to hide it with a swig from his water bottle, which only resulted in him choking on the water and coughing. Was Potter actually checking him out?!

"I've never seen you here before though" Draco finally managed to wheeze in an effort to make small talk, "do you come here often?" He froze as he heard the words coming out of his mouth. Really? 'Do you come here often?' Smooth, Malfoy. Really smooth.

Potter huffed a laugh and ruffled his hair some more.

"Er yeah, I guess. Or, well I'm new to this gym, but I've been using dancing as an outlet lately, sort of. And..." he trailed off, looking slightly sheepish. "I guess I'm trying to express my emotions, my thoughts and sort through them. Perhaps it's silly, but... I find it easier to sort through my thoughts when my body is exhausted, you know?"

Draco nodded frantically, happy to have found something that would keep Potter talking to him. "Yes, exactly! Pushing your body to its limits, making it just as tired as your brain."

Potter smiled at him. "Right! It's either that or shagging, isn't it?" he chuckled.

Draco had a hard time hearing what Potter said next, because his ears were suddenly filled with a buzzing noise. Potter said shag. Harry Potter said the word shagging to _him_ , Draco Malfoy. The word shag had been uttered between the two of them.

"You alright there, Malfoy?" Potter looked at him with an amused look.

Draco shook his head in an attempt to clear his head. What was with him today? Why was he acting like a flustered teenager? He was so used to being the one in control, ice cool and sassy, able to rile Potter up with a word or a glance, not the other way around. He annoyed with himself for being unable to throw Potter off balance, like he had when they were at Hogwarts.

"Oh. Yeah" he said rather breathlessly. "I'm sorry. You were saying?"

Potter paused to look at him a beat before he resumed talking. "I just said I think it's really nice here, you know? Up until today I haven't run into anyone from, well, our world. And I like it! I like not being... approached." He made a vague hand gesture, as if he were fending off invisible admirers.

"Not being approached? I got the impression just now that people approach you all the time" Draco said, and who could blame him if he sounded just a _little_ bit jealous?

Potter didn't seem to notice, because he merely scoffed. "Yeah, well, they do it because of something I'm doing now, and not because the whole 'Thank you for saving the world seven years ago'" he muttered under his breath.

"They do it because you're _bloody hot_ " Draco blurted, and really, now would be a great time to hex his tongue off, Statue of Secrecy be damned. He stared at Potter with wide eyes, hoping against hope that Potter had become temporarily deaf. Or the sudden victim of a stray _mufflatio_. A bloke could dream, right?

"I take it you liked what you saw?" Potter said teasingly, a smile playing at the corners of his mouth.

"Oh, the dancing?" Draco tried to sound as casual as possible. "Yeah, that was uh… _interesting_." It certainly had increased the number of wet dreams starring Potter looming in Draco's immediate future.

"Tell me Malfoy, do _you_ ever dance?" Potter asked him with a twist of his lips, and was it just Draco's imagination or was his tone a bit suggestive?

Draco cleared his throat, both to stall and also because his mouth had went very, _very_ dry.

"I... I have been attending balls. Though regretfully they usually don't include this particular kind of dancing style" he said, aiming for a humorous tone but to his own ears it sounded more like an insult.

Potter's eyes twinkled. "Well then, why don't you come to one of my dance classes and try it out? I _really_ wouldn't mind watching you working those hips" he sais and now there was _definitely_ something suggestive in his tone of voice.

Draco suddenly felt faint. "I… er... I don't know if..."

Potter crossed his arms over his chest and cocked his head with a sly grin. "Scared, Malfoy?"

The familiar words made Draco snap his eyes at Potter. He squared his shoulders as he fixed Potter with one of his patented death glares. "You wish".

Potter's grin widened into a more genuine smile and he let his arms fall to his sides. "Brilliant! The next slot coming up is this saturday. You should dress comfortably." He looked Draco up and down again. "I think those trousers will do nicely" he added with a wink. "They look... stretchy".

Draco sucked in a breath. He really really hoped that Potter hadn't noticed his traitorous appendix that never seemed willing to die down. He nodded stiffly. "Erm, I guess they are."

Obviously taking this as consent Potter said "Okay, I'll see you there then" and he was still smiling at Draco, looking like the cat that ate the canary. "I'd love to stay and chat but I promised I'd meet Ron and Hermione for a pint and I need to stretch first" he added after glancing at his wrist watch.

"Oh, right" Draco said and tried his best to conceal the disappointment in his voice. "I'll see you saturday then." Potter nodded and gave him one last smile before he went to pick up his things.

"Potter, wait!" Draco called, reluctant to let this moment slip away. He'd never talked this long to Potter, or even been alone with him like this before. It was everything he had imagined, and more, being the sole focus of interest of Potter, and he never wanted it to end. Potter turned around and looked at him, head slightly tilted and eyes clear. Sudden inspiration struck Draco like lightning.

"Yes?"

"I... I wanted to er... to thank you, for speaking up for Mother and I. At our trials" Draco stuttered.

Potter seemed to be taken aback, his cheekiness dissolving for a moment. "Oh. I, er... No problem? I mean, I was happy to do it". He scratched his neck. "Your mother she... she took a great risk defying Voldemort. And I know... or I think I know that she did it for you, to get to you, but either way..." He shrugged. "You know... Whatever the reason she helped me. And you..." he paused, as if he were trying to find the right words. "I haven't forgotten what you did either" he said in such a low voice that Draco had to strain his ears to hear properly.

Draco felt his cheeks warm but he nodded in agreement.

"It's just... If it weren't for you, we'd probably have ended up in Azkaban" Draco shivered at the thought. He had visited his father there enough times to last him a lifetime. "I never... I've never really thanked you properly" he continued, realising that perhaps this didn't count as a 'proper' thank you, standing in a muggle gym drenched in sweat, with his hair plastered to his face and with an erection that threatened to literally bollocks things up any moment.

Potter seemed to have the same idea because his face lit up in a grin. "Well, I've yet to receive one then, haven't I?" His eyes twinkled and Draco felt like he would do anything to make Potter smile like that again.

Feeling suddenly bold he took a deep breath. And before he could regret it he said "Tell you what, as a _proper_ thank you, let me buy you dinner. Say, tomorrow?" He held his breath, waiting for Potter to laugh at him, or worse, to smile apologetically and decline. He had a sudden image of himself at eleven, holding out his hand to Potter and getting rejected.

But to his surprise Potter seemed delighted and said simply "All right, that actually sounds really nice! Pick me up at seven?"

Draco couldn't speak. Had he just asked Potter out? And had Potter just agreed?

"I'll owl you my address and change the wards to let you through" Potter said as Draco was silently staring at him. Draco nodded slowly to show Potter he had heard him and agreed. He felt exhausted all of a sudden, almost emptied out from the emotional upheaval. His plan to go and stretch was stumped, there was no way he would be able to stretch now with any remaining dignity in his runner's tights with a raging hard on.

"I'll... I'll see you tomorrow then" he said faintly and managed to give Potter what he hoped resembled a smile before he turned to walk to the changing rooms and take a shower.

"I look forward to it. And Malfoy" Potter called after him as he went, "If all goes well, maybe I could give you a private dance lesson after?"

Draco stumbled and walked face first into the door to the locker rooms.

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A/N: Thank you so much for reading! Comments are love and I'll reply to every signed review


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